


Never Again

by veLOLciraptor



Category: Magic the Gathering
Genre: Duel Deck Hatred, Humanoid!Niv Mizzet, M/M, Rough and Tumble Quickies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1316467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veLOLciraptor/pseuds/veLOLciraptor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all a flurry of motion, sound and sweat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Again

They hadn’t even bothered getting most of their clothes fully off of their bodies. The ornate robes that the Izzet guildmaster wore in his humanoid form hung around his hulking frame, tugged open only as much as was strictly necessary and Jace’s many layers were rucked up or down in the most direct and single-minded manner possible.

And even that was likely only because Jace had pitched close to a fit the last time Niv had ruined a set of his clothes. Torn to scrap ribbons that not even the golgari could have found a use for, and all because he couldn’t have waited the space of a breath for Jace to mutter out a spell… Although to the Firemind’s credit Jace’s mouth had been rather busy at the moment.

Still, some far-off practical part of Jace’s brain was grateful that it seemed like his clothes would survive this particular encounter. He was running out of excuses and his assistants were starting to give him looks. Not that he could really hope to hide much of, well, anything really. Whatever exactly Jace and Niv Mizzet’s relationship was… it was one of the worst-kept secrets in Ravnica.

Jace was pretty far past caring about gossip at the moment though. His mind had other things to occupy itself with that were wholly more interesting and all-together unrelenting in their demands on his attentions.

Jace writhed underneath the dragon’s tall, muscular human body. Niv Mizzet’s insistent, measured breaths came in rhythm with the motion of each thrust against and into the smaller, trapped body beneath. The underlying smell of sex was redolent: and something more specific, like sparks or ozone.

It was all a flurry of motion, sound and sweat. 

Except for the dragon’s hands. While it was by no means uncommon for Niv Mizzet’s huge hands to roam over his body leaving bruises (and sometimes blood from hisclaws that didn’t quite recede even in this form) it was rare their attentions were ever concentrated much on one area in particular.

Right now, they were.

Niv Mizzet had started this whole whirlwind tryst fisting a hand into Jace’s dark hair, and he had not let go yet. 

Readjusted, yes. 

Tightened, certainly.

Yanked, definitely.

Niv Mizzet had done all manner of pulling and tugging on the whatever fistful of dark hair he had at the time. 

It made Jace’s eyes water, and the mind mage grit his teeth at the pain that prickled around his scalp but he made no more than the occasional whimper or moan. And hardly ones of protest at that.

No. Protest was the last thing on his mind.

It wasn’t something meant to last. It was obvious by the Firemind’s growing abandon and the way that Jace was beginning to sound more and more as though he was well and truly wrecked in the best of the word’s meanings.

“Never again.” Niv Mizzet’s voice was a powerful, imposing baritone even around the heavy breathing.

Jace couldn’t even bother to guess at the meaning.

The dragon repeated himself.

“Never.” 

Each word was matched with a deliberate and unmistakable motion of his hips.

“Again.”

It was only later, when Jace was trying to get his miraculously tear-free clothing back into some semblance of order with arms simultaneously too weak and too sated, that he got anything resembling an explanation out of Niv Mizzet.

“Whatever that Azorius trollop convinced you to do with you hair.” The dragon replied simply, yet in a tone that left no space at all for a retort.

Jace quirked a brow, catching a glance at his reflection in one of the many polished surfaces in the guildmaster’s offices.

Though Jace had had his reservations at first, Lavinia had been unflinchingly industrious in her attempts to get him put his hair into some kind of orderly style. It was nothing of the sort now: the dragon had seen to that.

His hair looked as disheveled as he felt, but with part of his mind still riding the ebbing chemical wave of another very satisfying meeting with the Niv Mizzet, he couldn’t find the desire to put much effort into arguing.

“It was that bad huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh. I just had to get that out of my system. I HATE Jace's hair in the newest Dual Deck art. HATE IT. So naturally I summoned up my own little fan-driven way of getting the fuck rid of it. Nothing against Lavinia as a character, but I think a hair style that stupidly dweeby could only have been due to some unfortunate Azorius intervention.


End file.
